Craving
by Starla
Summary: Anya has lots of lusty thoughts, mostly about Spike. Anya/Spike.


craving ****

Improv #16 - _A Very 'Shippy Improv _- Spike/Anya

Title: Craving 1/1

Author: Starla (throwmwalrus@bored.com)

Disclaimer: Everyone belongs to Joss. 

Distribution: Mm. Sure. Take it. Just send me an addy. 

Rating: Umm... I don't know...R? 

Author's Notes: This hasn't been beta'd yet. Any mistakes are my own. This is sorta not my usual style; First off, not B/A. Second Off, I've never really written much Anya. It's hard to find her voice...hope this isn't too crappy. Also a little more sex-centred than my usual efforts. Hmm.

Feedback: God, yes. 

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There's something undeniably... interesting... about the way he moves. 

I watch as he throws his opponents off...as he twists...turns...spins...slides. He pounces, like a cat, swoops, like a hawk. He glides and stretches, with grace and speed, and I can't help but wonder what he'd be like in bed. I've never seen anyone move like him...

Except for maybe Buffy, who stands by his side, flushed from the battle. Her breath is coming in quick, short gasps, and if I didn't know better, I would have thought she'd just indulged in intercourse... her chest, her breasts, rising...falling...rising... and I can't seem to stop looking at them, even if I know that , for now, it's not her I want...not that lifestyle I want. I mean, lesbianism, been there, done that... time to try something new. 

She sure is tempting, though. And I'm not ruling out further exploration of my lusty thoughts in the future... 

For now, it's Spike I'm fixated on. Spike, and his effortless grace... the way he moves, the way he speaks, the way he smokes that cigarette... I haven't been able to get him out of my mind. He's an addiction... in a good way. 

I dream about him, at night, wrapped up in Xander's arms. I dream about his mouth, his tongue, all over my body. It's so vivid... I can taste him...feel his cool fingers, on my breasts, sliding down over my belly, tangling in the soft triangle of hair between my legs. His strong chest is pressed possessively against my back, his lips at my neck, sucking and tugging at my jugular.

There's something incredibly erotic about vampires, don't you think? I can completely understand what Buffy sees in Angel, even if the others can't. I mean, have you seen him? All chocolate eyes and rippling muscles? He's the type to quote you poetry as he goes down on you, to take hours to explore your body...to bend it to his will. That mischievous grin and those little-boy-lost eyes... I've had many a fantasy about him. But not lately. 

All it is lately is Spike, and his goddamned voice in my goddamned ear. Whispering. Telling me all about what he's going to do to me... What he's done to me in the past. Even if he only did them in the dreamscape. 

I dream about him, *every* night. It was never like this, when I was a demon. Sure, you had sex. You had lots of sex, with lots of people...but it was never very important. It was just something to do, like knitting, or croquet, or mahjong. Evisceration, cannibalism, genocide; Now *they* were important. 

Now, as a human, I have all these...impulses. I want to try it all...with as many people as possible. No matter how much I love Xander, there's always this...voice. Telling me that he's not enough, and you know what, I'm beginning to think the voice is right, because why else would I want Spike so much?

"You want me because we're the same," Spike tells me in my dreams, his mouth cool against my feverish neck, "You need the darkness, pet. You're addicted to it."

"No," I deny. I always deny it, even though part of me knows that if I were really in that position, Spike pressed up against my back, one hand fondling my breast, I wouldn't be doing much protesting at all. 

"No?" He repeats, mocking me, "Oh...so you don't want me to..." He tweaks my nipple, and I gasp, my head falling back onto his shoulder.

"Yeeesss," I moan, my eyes rolling back into my head.

"Oh, so you admit it then," he smirks, and I feel his chest shake with laughter.

"I don't..." I turn, and reach out for him, numb to everything but the growing need for him, for his touch, for his voice...for that thing that I see in him, but can't name. 

"Yes, you do," he tells me as his lips close over mine, "You need the darkness, and you know it."

God help me, he's right. I need the darkness...because for so long it was whatsustained me. Because the light is so much scarier. The light never really wins...because it bleedin' cares too much.

I used one of Spike's words! We're rubbing off on each other! How cute. 

"Anya," I hear his voice say, and it takes me a moment to realise that he's really talking to me, and it's not just my mind wandering back into my dreams again. "Everyone is gone. Sod off."

"I..." I can't really form a coherent thought. There's blood on his lip, and there's this really sick, perverted part of me that just wants to lick it off.

A rather large, sick, perverted part of me. I guess being a demon sorta makes you a little...kinky. 

"Something wrong?" he asks, and then lifts his head, sniffing the air. He leers at me. "You and clownboy been playin' rodeo again, my dear?"

See, that's what I mean about vampires being erotic. There's that whole heightened awareness thing... It turns me on. 

"No," I say bluntly, "If we had, you would have heard about it already. Apparently I'm too 'forward'."

"Honorable trait," he replies, "But you're not still here because you think you need behaviour modification. Is there something you bloody well wanted?"

Oh, god, yes. 

"No," I respond anyway. 

"Well, then. I don't mean to be rude - well, actually I do - Go. Away."

"No," I reply immediately, "I don't want to."

He sighs, frustrated. "You baffle me."

"Guys like that," I say immediately, "Makes them think I'm interesting."

He looks at me strangely. "Interestin' in the head," he mutters finally, turning away.

"You like your women crazy," I say before I can stop myself. "Xander told me."

"What does it matter how I like my women, pet?" Spike asks me, smirking. "Imean, it's not like you're exactly in the queue to be my love slave, is it?"

Images of him chaining me up flash into my mind, and I can't help myself. 

I kiss him. And lick that spot of blood off his lip in the process. 

Mmm...just what I've been craving. 

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End file.
